


Yellow Is The Warmest Color

by daughterofthesky



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Bang Chan-centric, Boys In Love, Conversations, Fluff and Angst, High School, M/M, Plans For The Future, Plot Twists, Skipping Class, Smoking, Swearing, Volleyball, bad boy kim woojin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-09-28 18:17:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17187986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daughterofthesky/pseuds/daughterofthesky
Summary: Yellow is the warmest color. Not because of the sun. Not because of the warmth of it, not because of summer either. But because of his hair, because of the way his eyes change color with the light, with sunset and sunrise. Because when he smiles at me, with those eyes of his, he radiates warmth. A warmth only he can provide. A yellow only he reflects. And there's no warmest place on Earth than by his side.Bang Chan skips school to spend the afternoon with his boyfriend, bad boy Kim Woojin. Except everything's not what it seems.





	Yellow Is The Warmest Color

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by ["Dots and Dashes (Enough Already)"](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/444020) by Silversun Pickups. 



> it was inspired by a music video which i recommend u watch AFTER reading the au, so that u have no spoilers  
> the title comes from a french movie (called "blue is the warmest color") but it has nothing to do with this au, it was not a source of inspiration  
> also this au is angstier than it looks, beware

Chan doesn't want to be in gym class. He doesn't want to play volleyball not because he hates it—which he does, he's hated it all his life because he sucks at it and refuses to improve—but because he doesn't want to be jeered at again for failing a decisive strike. It has happened before and will happen a thousand times more, at least until he graduates next year. It's hot and it's summer and the end of the school year is near: Chan has been making a countdown, scrapping the days off his calendar. Fifteen more days to go. He wants to have fun, he wants to be free for the summer and for those three months he has left before his last year of school begins and the joy is replaced with frustration and uncertainty and responsibility. Senior year will be the last year to prove himself, to show that he is someone.

The summer heat seeps in the afternoon very briskly, making its way through the students and sweating the hell out of them like no other season can. The pavement is scorched beneath his worn-out sneakers and the sun blinds him: he can't see the players from the other side of the net. Sweat trickles down his forehead and he hates how smelly he is, how unattractive he looks. His shirt is stained with sweat as well, leaving a trail in his armpits and collar. His brown hair is curly and unruly and messy despite the hairband he is obliged to use: it doesn't prevent the sweat from sliding down his skin. Perhaps he should pay attention to the game and his team because they are losing and they all know he sucks, and maybe he should try to prove them wrong and make an effort and actually score a goal — the first one in his life—but at that precise moment, he catches a glimpse of Woojin from the other side of the school fence. He's wearing a simple white shirt, a black leather jacket on top of it — despite the undeniable heat — matched with worn-out, ripped jeans a bit too tight for him, together with aviator sunglasses. He observes him as he strikes a match and lits a cigarette, leaning against his Harley-Davidson. He looks fresh and spotless, unlike Chan's dampened sweatshirt and grey gym shorts he loathes — they make him look shorter than he already is and they're oddly uncomfortable. His blonde dyed-hair glimmers with the sunlight and he can see him momentarily closing his eyes through the sunglasses, just basking. Chan gulps, eyes fixed on him. Woojin looks like he doesn't belong there, like he _shouldn't_ be outside a school — perhaps in a reformatory or even in jail. Yet he does, in fact he should be in class right now, bored out of his mind in a subject he's not interested in and that he doesn't pay attention to. He should be teasing and playing around and doodling and making paper planes and throwing them towards the nerds because these activities don't require half the concentration paying attention does. That's why he is skipping school, Chan knows, as he always does now that school is nearly over. His presence remains unnoticed by anyone besides Chan, who can't seem to divert his sight from the senior. It's like he has an internal radar and just happens to know every time he's around. His heart races and he sweats a bit more, tongue-tied. He bets he looks like a fool, still he can't stop staring at the boy, who walked past him from the other side of the school grounds and is now smoking.

It doesn't take Woojin long to realize he's being watched. He likes being the center of attention. Taking small, slow draws of the cigarette, he stares back at him attentively, as if hoping Chan would do something amusing. Or just to tease him. Woojin has a loopy grin on his face, and it somehow makes Chan smile as well, just barely twitching his lips until they're curved upwards. He takes a few more draws and throws the cigarette onto the curve of the street, stomping it lightly, slowly exhaling what is left of the smoke into the air. They stay like that for a while, just looking at each other, Chan's mind easing off and becoming blank. He can't hear his teammates shouting at him, he can't hear them huffing and complaining about his lack of attention to the game. He can't hear his teacher ordering him to get his head in the game and stop being the absent-minded person he is. But he doesn't listen: instead, he walks away, leaving the game and the team and the school behind, climbing the fence until he is on the other side. It all happens in a heartbeat, and he's satisfied with himself for making up his mind and breaking the rules. It feels good to be bad.

Woojin pleasantly smiles, crossing his arms and nodding for him to hop on the motorcycle. He walks towards Woojin, one step at a time, grinning. Chan doesn't want to be anywhere else.

 

 

 

As they leave the school behind, Chan outstretches his arms as if to hug the wind that tousles his hair and dries his sweat. He gets rid of the stinky hairband by tossing it away. He feels like he'll live an eternity, and that his youth is everlasting. That he can live in this moment forever and that tomorrow will never come—that it doesn't need to—, that the afternoon won't end and he won't have to go back to the dullness that is his life. He shuts his eyes and tilts his head back in ecstasy, just taking it all in before the moment fades.

"You good?" Woojin asks, as Chan hugs his chest, holding on to him firmly while the powerful machine shoots out from between his legs, Woojin being halfway down the street.

"Yeah," he affirms, heavily exhaling and resting his head on his shoulder, squeezing him lightly. He opens his eyes again and gazes at the trees as they leave them behind. His eyes are filled with excitement, with the adrenaline that comes with skipping school and being with the person he loves. He'll have trouble for sure, not just with the school and with his grades and teachers but with his parents too. He doesn't care: Chan smiles for what seems like a lifetime.

 

 

 

Woojin parks just outside a house Chan's never seen before. He probably has but he has never stopped and acknowledged its presence. He has never taken a look at it as he does today and that is why he wonders what the hell he is doing here, what the hell Woojin wants to do. Their town is just a small community of buildings and people living by the sea. It isn't fancy and picturesque yet there is something charming about it. Perhaps it is the humbleness of its people, maybe it is the sea and how untamed it is compared to other parts of the world. Or just maybe it is one of other thousands of towns, except Chan has never been anywhere but here.

"What are we doing here?" he asks, but Woojin takes a finger to his lips and shushes him off, a pesky grin on his face.

"Follow me," he whispers, yanking him off his motorcycle and dragging him deeper into the lawn, until they are all the way to the back. They walk past healthily green trees and eye-catching, vibrant flowers but they soon find themselves face to face with a tall, wooden fence. Clearly off limits.

"This is trespassing."

"I work here," he says, lightly patting his back and climbing the fence until he's on the other side. Chan is not sure he believes him but he sounded pretty convincing. "Besides, no one's home."

Nervous, Chan bites his lip and follows him, afraid to be left behind and be caught on his own; Woojin will surely know how to drive him away from any troubles. He feels safe with him, like nothing and no one can touch him when he's by Woojin's side.

The first thing Chan sees when he lands on the other side is a pool, a big and clean backyard pool. The garden is not very wide, the pool being the center of it. The backyard is relatively small but so is the house and the rest of the other backyards and the rest of the houses in the neighborhood.

"See? I told you," he says, giggling, Chan's attention back on him, "nobody's home." Immediately after, he takes off his black combat boots and his leather jacket and his aviator sunglasses and drops them by the edge of the pool before looking back at Chan and smiling. Then, he jumps into the pool.

It takes a few seconds for Woojin's blonde hair to appear back on the surface. "Come," he says, stretching out his hand to reach him before shaking his now-soaked hair and unintentionally splashing Chan. In response, Chan giggles, being as happy as he never was before. He enjoys Woojin's company because it makes him feel accompanied, it doesn't make him feel as alone as he usually is. Summer's just starting but he doesn't want it to ever leave.

Chan jumps. He jumps into the pool and leaves his worries behind. He jumps because he can, because it's deathly hot outside and summer will last an eternity. He jumps into the pool to wash his sweat and his hair and refresh himself. He jumps because he wants to be with Woojin, because he wants to make Woojin happy.

The pool is cold when his skin meets the water. He doesn't mind, it feels like a splash of reality. _This is really happening right now, I'm spending the afternoon with him and nothing could be better._

"Your hair," Chan says, softly caressing it despite being dampened, "is blonde."

"And yours is curly," he replies sarcastically. Chan notices the black roots making way as well. Through his white shirt, Chan can see the tonified muscles in his stomach, and blushes. But then Woojin changes the topic again. "I do work here," he states, his characteristic grin fading, "I didn't lie."

"I believe you."

Woojin huffs. "It's a part time job I have. I clean pools." He doesn't sound proud of it, he sounds ashamed. "I wanna get out of here, I'm saving up."

"Where do you want to go?"

"Anywhere," Woojin's eyes sparkle, like he's looking at something unattainable but believing that he can reach it somehow. "I don't wanna study and watch how my life slips away without having fun. I wanna be free, I want to _feel_ free. I wanna do so much more than this town can offer. I wanna be somebody."

"Who do you want to be?" Chan asks, fear behind the question. Woojin is much a deeper person that people give him credit for; he manages to look laidback while his mind does all the work of worrying and thinking about the future with more importance than any of the kids at their school. He takes it more seriously than people ever know. Yet they disqualify him as a troublemaker without making the effort to see through his eyes. _His eyes_. Those eyes that have seen the pain of growing up before its time and suffering a greater loss than any other kids could ever think of. Those eyes that have lost the light and the hope and the enthusiasm of living.

"I wanna be a storyteller," he confesses. It sounds like it's the first time he's saying it out loud. "I wanna mark people with their own stories and feelings."

"You wanna be a tattoo artist."

Woojin chuckles, "Yeah," he says, releasing a lopsided smile. Chan knows he is smiling to himself. "I wanna be a tattoo artist."

 

 

 

Before they know it, there's a sunset making way towards the horizon, bringing the end of the afternoon, painting the sky of a cotton candy shade pink Chan has never seen before. They head to the beach, soaking their ankles in the sea and kicking sand and holding hands and kissing and believing that summer will last an eternity.

They lie sprawled on the sand, basking in the afternoon sun. Woojin closes his eyes shut and tilts his head back, leaning on his muscled arms.

"What about this scar?" he asks, tracing the mark that goes from the eyebrow down his cheek.

"I love scars. I think it gives someone so much character and history. It's a huge part of me, that scar, so I didn't want to cover it up."

Chan nods, cupping Woojin's face before he plants a quick kiss on his lips. Then, he smiles, and withdraws his hands.

"I'm not who I was a year ago. And maybe that's a good thing."

Woojin doesn't interrupt, perking his ears up and giving him his full attention. Chan goes on, "I still don't know what I'm going to study. It's not something I've been thinking about."

"Well, you still have a year, unlike me."

"I know," he nods. He stares at the sea and catches a glimpse of a small wave crashing onto the sand before looking back at Woojin, who is lying next to him. His eyes are gleaming, a ray of what is left of the sun hitting his eyes but he doesn't look annoyed. "I want to write."

"What will you write about?"

Chan pouts, thoughtful. "About summer. About love and about us."

Woojin smiles, his eyes turning into two perfectly shaped crescent moons. "I'd love to read that someday."

 

 

 

They walk holding hands along the line of the sea, towards the sun, watching how it hides down the thin line at the horizon and watching it disappear, taking with it the pink sky and the sun and the afternoon until all that is left is the night. And the stars. And their love.

They lie once more on the sand, holding each other like they're too afraid to let go. Like they fear the night.

“I know this is ending today. Tomorrow it's gonna be different. Let’s just stay here a little more," Chan whispers against his neck, kissing him softly, chastely. Maybe this way he can make him fall in love with him a little bit more and he hopes that this time it won't fade away, that it will stay with him long after he has woken up.

A heavy breath. Eyes closing, staying closed, and then opening again. Why was he so painfully beautiful?

“ _Please_.”

Those eyes. So close yet so far away. A galaxy far from his.

"Stay here a little longer." _Stay with me._

And he does.

 

 

 

But when Chan wakes up, there's nothing. No sunrise. No beach, no sand. No Woojin, no love. There's an afternoon and a volleyball game before he snapped out of reality.

_I see my whole world in your eyes._

It takes him a while to realize where he is and why he is there. He watches Woojin walk away from the other side of the fence, eyes fixed on each other as he walks away, farther from him and gets into his girlfriend's car. Chan stays rooted to the ground, mind somewhere else except where it needs to be, as always. He watches with teary eyes as Woojin leaves, head popped out of the passenger's seat, still looking at him until Chan is not more than a silhouette in the far distance. Chan does nothing, besides looking at the person he has fallen in love with and realizing as he looked back at Chan that it was no big deal for Woojin to completely brush him aside and continue on with his day as if he never existed. As if he hadn't broken his heart.

 

 

 

He goes to the beach, a place where his mind is at ease.

He doesn't cry. Even though he wants to, he doesn't bawl his eyes out despite the tears welling up in them.

He doesn't turn around and look back as Woojin passes right behind him from a few meters away, on the road, window down and his tousled blonde hair he loves so much dancing in the wind.

 

_and here i am_

_looking at the sunset_

_thinking about you._

 

He forces himself not to turn around, but in the end he does.

**Author's Note:**

> i hope u liked this work !! if you did, i would really appreciate kudos/comments :) THANK YOU  
> tbh i'm not a fan of the song (i do like it tho), i don't know the band but i stumbled upon the mv the other day and i was just in awe. i loved it, so i decided to write about it giving it a different ending and making it my own, in a way. i hope it doesn't suck. i hope it was worth your time.  
> it's a free interpretation au so it can be a lot of things; what chan thinks could be either an alternative reality or a memory or Woojin could even not be real who knows? maybe chan made him up or maybe he didn't. i wanna know your opinions so leave comments below !!  
> reminder that english is not my first language, i'm sorry for the spelling mistakes !!


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